Home
by crematosis
Summary: Bucky comes home for Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I really meant to have this uploaded in time for Christmas, but things didn't quite work out. Oh well.

Disclaimer: This is yet another Avengerkink prompt, so it's not entirely my idea.

It was late evening by the time he made it to the big, ugly building that the Avengers apparently called home.

He didn't care about the Avengers really, but Captain America was one of them and the captain was achingly familiar. Something in those earnest blue eyes and tousled blonde hair spoke to him. There was definitely a history between them, something he couldn't quite remember.

Bucky, the blonde had called him. He had simply been known as the Asset for as long as he could remember, but perhaps it had been his name once.

He was sure Captain America had another name, too. Long before he was ever a captain. He didn't know how he knew that, but it felt as certain as his heartbeat.

Which was why he was intent on finding out as much about the captain as he could. He didn't have a mission anymore, so tracking the blonde's movements gave him a sense of purpose. The more he learned about Captain America, the more he would learn about himself. And he desperately wanted to fill in the blank spaces in his memories.

So that was why he was currently standing outside the Avengers Tower in six inches of snow. It was the perfect opportunity to watch the captain interact with his team.

Most of the Avengers seemed to be in the den, watching something on TV. The captain was there of course, sitting beside the dark-skinned man and the red-haired woman he vaguely remembered fighting against in one of his previous missions. And sprawled out across the floor was a dark-haired man that also looked oddly familiar although he couldn't recall seeing him in action.

He forced himself to step back from the window. He didn't know much about the Avengers, but he was sure there were more than four of them. It wouldn't be good to have the rest of them sneak up on him while he was busy staring.

Circling around the side of the tower, he came across the dining room. It looked like everyone had just finished eating. There were still dirty plates sitting out on the table and half-empty casserole dishes. Most everything was pretty picked over, but there were still a few slices of ham on a platter and some meat left on the turkey carcass in the middle of the table.

He resisted the urge to lick his lips. It had been more than a day since he had eaten anything substantial. The streets were just too crowded to risk going out and rummaging for a few bites. He had managed to ignore the hunger so far, but seeing all the food spread out made him feel weak with want.

Maybe they would be willing to give him a few of the leftover scraps. He had seen the captain passing out water bottles and granola bars to all of the homeless beggars along his usual route. At this point, he was probably just as dirty and disheveled as they were, so hopefully he would get the same sympathetic treatment.

He pulled his hand out of his pocket only long enough to knock on the door. It was getting colder and colder outside by the minute. As soon as he got a bite to eat, he needed to head out to look for shelter. Observing the captain would have to wait for another day.

The door was opened abruptly and the dark-haired man stared at him with open-mouthed shock."Oh my god. It's you."

He jerked back. This had been a mistake. After all the damage he'd done, how could he expect anyone to take mercy on him, especially the very people he had fought? He was getting soft in the head and this weakness was only going to get him killed.

"No, no, no, it's okay," the man said hastily. "Steve! Steve, get out here."

And then the captain appeared in the doorway.

"Bucky," the blonde breathed.

"Hey, punk," he said and was immediately horrified. What was wrong with him? He wanted food, not a fight. But his mouth was operating on its own.

The blonde stepped towards him. He braced himself for the blow, but the captain just wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh, Bucky," he said. "I never thought I'd see you again. We looked everywhere for you, and we couldn't find you. But here you are."

"Steve?" he asked hesitantly.

"That's right." Steve's smile was blinding.

He was a little ashamed of how disappointed he was when Steve stopped hugging him. The man was just so warm and he could have basked in his body heat for hours. But once Steve stepped back, he started shivering again.

"Jesus, you're freezing," Steve said. "Let's get you warmed up inside."

"No, that's okay," he said quickly. "I can't stay."

Steve tipped his head to one side and regarded him carefully. "Where are you headed?"

He shrugged. Any place he could find to hide. An unlocked shed or condemned building, probably.

"That settles it," Steve said decisively. "You're staying with us."

He found himself dragged into the tower and the door closed behind him. He wanted to protest further but, oh, oh it was so nice and warm inside. After months of sleeping in garages and storage sheds, the tower felt heavenly.

Steve steered him into the den. "Nat, Sam," he said with a jerk of his head.

They rose from the couch.

He flinched and tried to back out of the room. They were really the last people he wanted to see and he was sure they felt the same.

Steve put a steadying hand on his shoulder."Nobody is going to hurt you," he said. "We just want to help."

"Yeah, man," Sam said. "All in the past. Any friend of Steve's is a friend of ours."

"Have a seat," Steve said, practically pressing him down into the couch. "Sam, grab Bucky a blanket off my bed. Natasha, see if you can salvage some of the broth for soup."

He sighed with relief as the two disappeared to carry out their missions. But the dark-haired man still lingered in the room, staring at him openly. He really did look familiar, but something about his face was a little off, not quite the same as the image in his mind.

"Looks familiar, doesn't he?" Steve asked with a smile.

"Maybe," he admitted.

Steve squeezed his shoulder. "Do you remember Howard? Howard Stark?"

He shook his head.

Steve's smile wobbled. "Well, Tony is his son."

His eyes flicked back to Tony, who was looking at them with a thoughtful frown.

"He doesn't like to talk about his father much," Steve confided in a whisper. "He was..."

"Hydra," he said, a shiver going down his spine.

"No," Steve said firmly. "Nobody here is connected with Hydra."

"My dad was a lot of things," Tony said quietly. "But he wasn't Hydra."

"See?" Steve said. "You're safe here, Buck. Nobody's going to hurt you again."

At that moment, Natasha padded in with a large bowl of shredded turkey in broth and he lost all interest in the discussion. The smell made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Hot meals were a luxury for him. Even back in the Hydra home base, he usually had to make do with army rations and anything that could be eaten straight out of a can.

He curled his hands reverently around the bowl when she handed it to him. The spoon was unnecessary. He just tipped the bowl up to his mouth and gulped it down. He probably should have eaten slowly, just in case she had poisoned the food, but he was too hungry to care. If he died, at least he would die with a full belly.

"Where's Sam?" Steve asked. "Bucky needs his blanket."

Tony snorted. "He probably got lost. I better go look for him."

"It's okay," he said quietly. "I don't need a blanket." He could already feel the warmth spreading down to his feet. It was a good feeling.

"Nope," Tony said. "Nobody in my Tower will ever have to go without. I'm getting you a blanket. Hell, I could grab you fifty blankets if you want."

Steve rolled his eyes. "He's not going to end up with any blankets if you keep standing around talking about it."

"Okay, okay," Tony said. "I'm going." He padded out of the room and then poked his head back around the corner. "Should I bring fuzzy socks and slippers, too?"

"Blanket, Tony," Steve said firmly.

And this time Tony actually left.

"Is he always like this?" he asked.

"Don't mind him. He's a little overbearing at first, but he grows on you after awhile." Steve smiled fondly. "Tony will make sure you'll have everything you want, and a couple things you never knew you needed. You'll never have to worry about any of the things we had to back in the 40s. I think you'll really like it here, Buck."

He could only remember brief flashes of his youth. A much tinier Steve in a threadbare coat, shivering in front of a fire. Standing in line with a handful of his ration stamps to buy Steve a new pair of shoes.

It was nice to know he'd never have to worry about Steve again. He was big and strong and healthy now.

Tony returned with blankets and pillows piled in his arms. Steve sighed, but he untangled the wad and began spreading blankets over the couch.

"Feeling better, Bucky?" Tony asked.

"Yes," he said. Somewhere along the line, his boots had gotten worked off and replaced with a pair of thick socks and he wriggled his toes happily.

Steve stared at the boots. "These things are falling apart," he said. "It's a wonder your feet haven't gotten frostbitten. We definitely need to get you new shoes first thing."

"We need to get him new everything first thing," Tony said. He brightened. "How about you let me hook you up with a new wardrobe, Bucky? Steve has all the fashion sense of a turnip and he refuses to let me buy him anything besides khakis, but you'll let me update your style, won't you?"

"Umm," he said, looking at Steve for reassurance.

Steve put his head in his hands.

"I'm taking that as a definite maybe," Tony said. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I can't wait to get you into some t-shirts and jeans. Jarvis, to the lab. We've got stylizing to do."

He blinked as Tony took off for the elevators.

"Again," Steve said, "he means well. But you can tell him no if he's driving you nuts."

"It's okay," he said. "I probably do need new clothes if I'm staying here. Everything is so nice and clean." He looked down at himself and grimaced. He was probably dripping snow and mud all over the couch.

"We'll get you cleaned up," Steve assured him. "A nice hot shower might feel good, too."

He nodded eagerly. There was months' worth of grime he really needed to scrub off.

"Alright then. I'll take you up to my floor."

Steve had his own floor? Amazing.

The elevator traveled up three stories and the door opened onto another den. The television wasn't quite as big as the one downstairs, but there were a large blonde man and a shorter man playing a videogame while another man in a sport coat appeared to be refereeing.

"This is Thor, Clint, and Agent Coulson," Steve said.

"Greetings, friend of our Captain," Thor said cheerily. "You will excuse me for not conversing with you further, but I cannot rest until I have beaten Clint in single combat."

"In your dreams," Clint muttered, furiously pressing buttons on the controller.

Coulson rose from his seat and extended a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Barnes. I've read your file, of course. You did a lot of great things during the war."

"He probably has trading cards of you, too," Clint muttered. "He collects that kind of thing."

Coulson cleared his throat. "I'm sure Captain Rogers will do an excellent job helping you adjust, but if you need any help, give me a call. I know a couple psychologists and medical personnel that would be happy to assist in your recovery. Anything we can do to try and make things right."

"Thank you," Steve said. "Right now all he needs is a hot shower and some rest, but I'll let you know when he's ready for more."

"Of course," Coulson said. "If you'll excuse me." He held out a hand. "Barton, we agreed that this was cheating. Hand over the controller."

"How do you know I cheated?" Clint demanded. "You weren't even watching."

"Ignore them," Steve said. "They'll be at this for awhile." He steered him into a room set up like a hotel suite with a bed, coffee table, couch and a mini TV. "This is where you'll sleep for tonight, if you think you'll be comfortable here."

"Absolutely," he said. How could he be uncomfortable in a king size bed?

"And the bathroom's through here." Steve pushed open a door leading to a large shower stocked with a wide array of soaps and shampoos.

"Thanks."

He shut the bathroom door and peeled off his dirty old clothes. The shower was a little more complicated than what he was used to, but as soon as he figured it out, he turned the heat up almost to scalding and washed and washed and scrubbed. He felt a little guilty for taking such a long shower, but as Steve had said, Tony had enough money to provide for everything he could imagine. So he was going to enjoy the hot water for just a little longer.

When he got out of the shower, there was a pair of flannel pajamas laid out across the bed.

"Clint's letting you borrow these for the night," Steve said.

As Steve began setting up bedding on the couch, he quickly changed into his pajamas and settled onto the bed. The mattress was amazingly soft. If only he could live in such luxury all the time.

"If you're cold, I can grab an extra comforter from one of the spare rooms," Steve offered.

"No, this is good." He pulled the blankets up to his chin.

"Okay, then." Steve laid down across the couch. "Night, Bucky," he said. "I'll be right here if you need me."

He curled up in bed and closed his eyes, waiting for Steve's breathing to even out.

As soon as Steve fell asleep, he needed to move on. The Avengers had already done more than enough for him. He didn't need to suck up any more of their hospitality.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up to bright sunlight streaming into the room. And Steve was dressed and sitting on the edge of the couch with the morning news.

Well, so much for sneaking out.

He scrubbed at his face. "What time is it?"

"A little after nine." Steve smiled sympathetically. "I didn't want to wake you. You seemed like you could really use the sleep."

He probably did. He was so used to only taking cat naps here and there. Sleep was dangerous. He couldn't afford to make himself vulnerable while he was sleeping in other people's sheds. There was always the chance someone would find him there and throw him out, so he was always on the alert, always ready to go on the run again.

But somehow, he had felt safe enough here to get a full night's sleep.

"There's coffee if you want some," Steve said. "Or I could make you a cup of cocoa just like Ma used to make."

"Sounds great." He slipped into the clothes set out for him as Steve surreptitiously averted his eyes.

Once he opened the bedroom door, he could smell the sizzle of bacon and the rich scent of coffee. His stomach started rumbling again.

Steve led him back downstairs to the kitchen where most of the Avengers had already gathered. Sam, Thor, Natasha, and Coulson were sitting around the kitchen table and Clint was perched on a bar stool with his plate balanced on his knees.

"I made breakfast," Tony announced, manically gesturing to the spread of food on the kitchen counter. "There's pancakes, waffles, eggs and bacon, and a couple of those little breakfast sausage things."

Steve shook his head. "And probably fifty flavors of coffee, if you're any indication."

"Tony didn't sleep," Natasha said with a disapproving frown. "He stayed up all night-"

"Doing very, very important and very secret things," Tony said quickly. He waved his spatula vigorously. "Nobody spoil this for me."

Steve steered Tony around the counter. "Why don't you sit down and take it easy for a second? And no more coffee."

Tony huffed, but he took a seat across from Sam and began sneaking breakfast sausages off his plate.

"What would you like, Bucky?" Steve asked. He took a plate out of the cupboard and stood expectantly next to the food.

"Uhhh." His eyes flicked over the counter. There were so many choices and everything looked delicious.

"A little bit of everything then," Steve said kindly. He scooped a spoonful of eggs onto the plate and continued down the line until the plate was full.

As he ate, more of the Avengers and their friends made their way down into the kitchen. There was Dr. Banner, Thor's girlfriend Jane and her friend Darcy, and a man Tony referred to as Happy.

"Okay, I think that's everyone," Tony said cheerfully. "Time for presents."

"Hey, you jerk. Are you really going to start without me?"

"Rhodey," Tony squeaked. "I thought you were here with us."

Rhodey swatted Tony with his newspaper. "I told you I had to go to the bathroom. Would it have killed you to wait until I got back?"

Tony cleared his throat. "Okay, now we're all here. Let's go, guys."

They all followed Tony down the hall to a large room that might have functioned as a ballroom. But at the moment, there was a large tree in the center of the room with presents piled all around. Everyone sat down and watched as Tony began sorting all the presents into piles with the help of a tiny robot with pincers that he called Boltbrain.

"Okay, this section is Thor's, this is Steve's, and this is Bucky's." Tony pointed to the largest pile.

His eyes went wide. "How did you do that? You couldn't have known I'd show up."

"Nope," Tony agreed. "No idea. But, one of the benefits of being me is that I can still find Christmas presents no matter what time it is."

"But I didn't get anybody anything," he said anxiously. It wasn't fair that they were giving him gifts when he had nothing to give in return.

"Oh yes, you did," Tony said triumphantly. "You got everybody some very nice things." He held up a box labeled "To: Steve From: Bucky".

Steve sighed. "Tony. Did you really do all this last night?"

"Well, I didn't do it all myself," Tony allowed. "The bots helped a little. And by helped, I mean they tried not to stab me to death with scissors."

"Oh, Tony," Steve said. "You're going to give me an ulcer one of these days."

"Or a coronary," Clint supplied helpfully.

"Or a stroke," Natasha added.

Steve made a strangled sound.

It was probably in bad taste to laugh at Steve's suffering, but he couldn't help but be amused. Steve's friends seemed to care about him, even as they enjoyed teasing him. It reminded him of the good old days when he could needle Steve about needing a girlfriend and Steve could needle him right back about needing to get a brain.

Tony pressed the box into Steve's hands. "Totally worth it," he said.

Steve shook his head, but he began carefully undoing the wrapping paper. Old habits, probably. From the years they really had to save every bit of paper to use again.

"Oh wow," Steve breathed as he opened the box.

There was a framed photo inside of the two of them hugging. He looked faintly hopeful, but Steve was smiling like it was the greatest day of his life.

Steve leaned over and pulled Tony into a sideways hug. "Thanks, Tony. I love it."

Tony waved him off. "Don't thank me, thank Bucky."

"Thanks, Buck," Steve said, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thanks for coming home."

Home.

He didn't think people like him deserved to have a home. But Steve had always been far too optimistic for his own good.

"Less gawking, more present opening," Tony declared, throwing scraps of wrapping paper around him as he scrabbled at the package Thor had given him.

Everyone else was unwrapping now, so he started in on the one that was supposedly from Steve. Inside the box, there was a hair brush, a comb, soap, a wash cloth, shampoo, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor, shaving cream, aftershave, cologne, and a couple hair ties.

"Steve is such a practical person," Tony said cheerfully. "All the basic necessities. We weren't sure if you wanted to keep your hair long or not, but it needs a touch up, no matter what."

Steve reached for the brush and slipped it out of the packaging. "I'll help you brush out the tangles," he said.

Obediently, he turned sideways on the couch. He was sure his hair was probably a lost cause. It was too matted. But he'd let Steve try anyway. It felt good to have his hands patiently working at the knots.

"Mine next," Tony said, practically vibrating with excitement. "It's just the first installment, of course. Because everyone came up with this silly rule that I can only spend $500 per person on Christmas."

"For good reason," Steve said. "It'll take me ten years to go through all the art supplies you bought me last year."

"I still don't see how that's a problem. You're planning on being here for the next ten years, aren't you?"

"Look. We've explained this to you already, but I'll try one more time. You've already done enough for us all year. If you really must spend money on things, donate to a worth cause instead."

"Like Bucky," Tony said brightly. "He needs something for our New Year's Eve party."

He suppressed a snort as Steve made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. Steve was just never going to win.

Tony's present turned out to be several pairs of new clothes. There were jeans, t-shirts, a heavy winter coat, and a very nice leather jacket.

Tony grinned."Steve said you were a bit of a ladies' man back in the day."

"That's right." He turned the jacket over and ran a hand over the seams.

"So now that your wardrobe's been updated, you can go right back to playing the field."

"I suppose so." He held up a cranberry-colored t-shirt and inspected it carefully.

"Go try them on," Tony coaxed. "Bathroom's down the hall, third door on the left."

Steve put down the brush. "Go right ahead, Bucky. You'll probably feel better out of Clint's borrowed clothes."

He slipped into a pair of black jeans, the cranberry t-shirt and the leather jacket and studied himself in the mirror. His hair was still a mess, but when he tied it back with one of the hair ties, it didn't look so bad. He actually looked like a normal person now.

On the way out of the bathroom, he almost collided with a redheaded woman in a green suit rolling a large suitcase behind her.

"Oh, hello." She smiled warmly and extended a hand. "Pepper Potts. I'm a friend of Tony's."

"I'm Bucky," he said. "Friend of Steve's." He carefully shook her hand with his good arm.

"Nice to have you with us this year, Bucky. I hope Steve warned you about how Christmas can get. We're a pretty big group here."

He smiled. "I'm aware."

Her phone chirped and she pulled it from her purse. "Tony again," she said with a sigh. "Better see what he's up to."

He followed as she walked briskly towards the ballroom. Everyone was still slowly unwrapping their presents and Tony was sitting in the middle of a pile of paper.

"Pepper, you made it," Tony said delightedly.

"I did," she said coolly. "But after the several hundred text messages demanding to know why I wasn't here yet, I almost changed my mind."

Tony looked sheepish. "Sorry, Pep."

"You're lucky I'm so fond of everyone else." She bent down to hug Natasha.

"Merry Christmas," Natasha said.

"Festive holiday greetings to you, Miss Potts," Thor boomed.

She smiled and moved over to pat Thor's shoulder. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Tony squirmed impatiently as Pepper made a round of the room, exchanging pleasantries with everyone. "We all got you gifts, Pep," he blurted out.

"So did I," she said, patting her suitcase.

"Don't you want to open them?"

She whispered something to Coulson, then straightened up with a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Let's open presents."

Tony practically dove for her suitcase and began parceling out the gifts. There were presents for everyone except him, which was only to be expected. But Tony seemed to take it as a personal insult.

"You are making the worst first impression," Tony said disapprovingly. "I can't believe you didn't get Bucky a single thing for Christmas."

Pepper glared. "If someone would have told me they were inviting a guest for Christmas, I would have."

"And if someone had actually read their text messages, they would have known to make another stop on the way here. But, never mind. I guess Bucky's Christmas will just have to be ruined."

"Tony," Steve said sternly.

"It's fine, actually," he said quietly. "I'm very happy with what I have already."

"Of course," Tony said. "Steve's best friend has to be just as saintly as he is." He flopped back against the couch with a dramatic sigh and nudged a box in Pepper's direction. "He's so nice he had to get you a present even though you didn't give him anything in return."

Pepper picked at the edge of the paper. "Bucky got me a present?"

"He got everybody a present," Tony said proudly. "Just little things, you know. I got a new coffee cup." He waved the sleek black mug overhead.

Pepper pulled a pair of shiny silver earrings out of the box. "Oh, Bucky, they're beautiful," she said. "You shouldn't have."

"Totally shouldn't have," Tony agreed.

Steve swatted him with a cushion.

It was another hour before all the presents were unwrapped. During that time, people wandered between the kitchen and the ballroom to get refills on their coffee and a couple bites of breakfast sausage. He would have joined them, but Steve insisted on getting him everything he needed, even though he was perfectly capable of walking to the kitchen without getting lost. The tower was big, but it wasn't that big.

Shortly after eleven, Pepper rose off the couch with a stretch."Alright, guys, I have to be heading out. I've got more people to see today." She made another round of the room, pointedly hugging everyone goodbye except Tony. At the door, she turned and waved over one shoulder. "Goodbye, Bucky. It was nice meeting you."

He waved back, still feeling a little shell-shocked. Nobody was ever happy to meet him. Everyone the Avengers knew were some of the nicest people on earth.

Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Bucky, buddy, look at you go. Already scoring with the ladies. I see plenty of dates in your future."

"You are not setting Bucky up with Pepper," Steve said sternly.

"Why not? You have a problem with Pepper?"

"Besides being your girlfriend, no."

"We're broken up at the moment," Tony said. "There may or may not have been a series of fights culminating in an incident with blue hair dye."

"She'll probably forgive you eventually," Natasha said. "But regardless, Pepper isn't Bucky's type."

"How would you know Bucky's type?" Tony scoffed. "You barely know him."

Natasha smiled thinly. "Ignore him, Bucky. When you're ready to start dating, you come to me. I have a couple single neighbors that I've already thoroughly vetted."

"Oh sure, just throw random women at him. That strategy's already worked so well for Steve, hasn't it?"

"If Steve took my suggestions seriously, he'd probably be married by now. But he's not motivated enough to get out there."

"Sorry Tasha, but I had other things on my mind at the time." Steve squeezed his knee."Hey, Buck, what do you say we go on a double date sometime, for old time's sake?"

He smiled. "I'd like that."


End file.
